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IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 



IDYLS 



GETTYSBTJEa. 



MISS E. LATIMER. 



Sail on, O Union, strong and gient! 

***** 
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 
Our faUh triumphant o'er our fears, 
Are all with thee — are all with thee. 

LONGFKLLOW. 



SECOND EDITION. 



PHILADELPHIA : 
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR, 

AND FOR SALE BY 

GEORGE MACLEAN, 

733 Sansom Street, 

1872. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by 

Miss E. LATIMER, 
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



MAR 15 V' 



Stkbeotyped by HtJCKEL & Co., 

PlIILADKlPITIA. 



CONTENTS. 



rAGE. 

DEDICATION 7 



PREFACE 11 

BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG L> 

IDYL L 
The Unknown ► . ^ . . . 4T) 

IDYL IL 
Blighted, yet Beautiful S~t 

IDYL III. 
Earlt Flowers from Cclp's Hill 115 

IDYL IV. 
National Orphan Homestead 123 



IN THE INTEREST 



OF A BEAUTIFUL CHARITY, WIT^ 

DEVOUT PRAYER 

FOR OUR Ni^TION'S PEJ^CE; 




OF OnR PATRIOT DEAD 
ipSE IDYLS J^RE SACREDLY 

DEDICATED 
BYTIjEAUTIjOR. 



PREFACE. 



"The Idyls of Gettysburg" makes another offering to 
that portion of our literature which stands identified in subject 
with the late most important struggle for the supremacy of 
law, and maintenance of national unity. 

The design in the prose article, The Battle op Gettys- 
burg, is not to present the descriptive, but to speak of its im- 
portance as to result. Aided by its parallelism with a renowned 
battle of antiquity, the argument becomes effective. The 
battle of Gettysburg, considered in its immediate results, 
stayed the tide of invasion, re-animated the patriot heart of 
the country, and proved the culminating point in the great 
struggle. 

But its cost in treasure and blood, the homes it left desa 
late, the hearts it broke, the orphanage it entailed, must, for 
this generation, require that we wreathe the emblems of 
mourning with the triumphal bay. But after-time will reject 
this interlacing ; the traces of grief will be lost in the wrapped 
glory and greatness vouchsafed to the battles of freedom, 
when right and progress have demanded, as here, earnestness 
even unto death. 

Idyl First, " The Unknown,''^ is a fragment of personal 

history, expressing the devotion of that innumerable host of 

patriots, rallying so promptlv at the counti'v's call, emulous 

11 



12 PREFACE. 

of noble deed, and shrinking not from death itself, should 
defence demand the sacrifice. 

Idyl Second portrays the love that is supreme in its truth 
and touching tenderness — the love that triumphs over the 
selfish, and sectional, defying each barrier thus raised by pride 
or hate. 

"The beautiful love, like to heaven, 

But to the blessed only given." 

This volume, thus presented, is to aid that most beautiful 
Charity, The National Orphan Homestead at Gettysburg. 
To this end, the net proceeds through all its editions are made 
sacred, while this class of orphanage shall claim, as now, 
protection and support. 

The embellishments, which give the effort a most pleasing 
feature, have been generously furnished by Frank Leslie, 
Esq., Artist and Publisher. The Messrs. Harper, also equally 
benevolent in the Orphan's Cause, made kind response in its 
behalf. To each and all who have helped hitherto, by gift 
of time, material, or money, grateful thanks are tendered. 

For the volume so made up, and for the object as set forth, 
a gracious reception is asked from a generous public sympa- 
thizing so deeply in the claim, and so kindly responsive to 
meet the needed care due our 



^1^ 

^^ NATION 'S ORPHANAGE, 1^"^, 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBUEG. 



Idyls of G-ettysburg. 




"HE battle of Gettysburg, as an event, 
has become the property of sober 
history. The skill of its command- 
ers, on either side, has been fully discussed, 
and opinions rendered. Surely its destruc- 
tion of life is still felt in many thousand 
homes through all the land. Those of the 
Union soldiery, now reposing in quiet, beauti- 
ful sepulture in its grounds, are counted by 
thousands; then the hosts of the wounded, 
carried here and there, to linger for a time, 
and then die. Add the great number that 
found burial elsewhere, and the estimate 
swells to as many more thousands as stand 
recorded within the Cemetery bounds. Of 

15 



16 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

its carnage, it is enough to say here, that it 
was frightful, and without parallel on our 
battle-fields, at the time of occurrence. 

"The Wilderness," later, might have been 
nearly as decimating, and also the combined 
assaults around Eichmond and Petersburg. 
But the three days at Gettysburg slew its 
hecatombs of brave men. This battle, in 
every aspect, may be regarded as the culmi- 
nating point in the great struggle between 
the mightiest forces of one people. 

Numbers on each side much the same, — 
that is, as they stood on the morning of the 
second day's fight. The numbers on both 
sides bore some approximation to that great- 
est of all armies ever called into the field at 
one time — that host of men marshalled to 
serve the pride and despotism of the last 
and most renowned of Persian conquerors. 
If we should search in the past to find paral- 
lelism for Gettysburg, in morale of result, as 
also in corresponding feature of circumstance 
attending, Marathon is that battle — so read- 
ily suggested to the student of history — that 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 17 

Marathon of Xerxes and Miltiades familiar in 
quotation, as allusion in ancient and modern 
lay. The mastery of Greece for ages, and the 
morale of her influence to remotest time, was 
to be decided by a single battle, — the de- 
cision to be made, by the event of defeat 
or victory, whether her genius and art should 
rivet the eye of the world, or oriental bar- 
barism should interpose to extinguish both. 

This battle was to decide whether repub- 
lican usage or tyrannic waywardness should 
control in Greece henceforth — whether the 
sword was to flash, the chisel to fashion, the 
temple to rise dedicated to freedom, or 
everything be made to subserve the arrogance 
of the capricious and dissolute conqueror. 
It was a morning of intense interest to the 
Greek, as to the whole world, that ushered in 
the day of Marathon. Every circumstance 
favored the invader; numbers — a thousand 
fold ; and town after town, and state alter 
state, had submitted. Lacediemon and At- 
tica alone were unsubdued. The invincible 
was written upon every standard. 

2 



18 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

How with the invaded? 

A handful of men to oppose the conqueror, 
and no more. Those who might have 
strengthened the ranks were hesitating on a 
matter of superstition. Then, for those on 
the lield, there was the trouble of divided 
command. Failing, — and it would seem they 
must fail, — then Lacedgemon, as Athens, 
was open to the invader, — no further resis- 
tance. But the vexed question of command 
was settled. The few, in their prowess, be- 
came victorious over the many. The faint- 
hearted became strong. Greece was saved. 
Freedom was in the ascendant. Art was 
inspired. The world's history was modified, 
— changed by the triumph of the Greeks at 
Marathon. 

Mark the parallelism, and the field of 
Gettysburg may be estimated better in its 
connection with the past, and, especially, in 
its influence upon the future. The Marathon 
of our time, the marked event in the history 
of a great nation, the battle itself, the 
mighty argument for law and progress, — 



^m't 




BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 21 

was here to be enforced by the decision of 
the merciless sword. 

Preceding — Lee has crossed the Potomac. 
Prestige is upon his banners, and is the guide ^ 
of his march. It was not a hurried march, 
and to the point of contest it was trium- 
phant. This invading army was large, well 
appointed, and proudly defiant. Lee makes 
his halt in the rural regions, whose valleys 
are shallow, and whose rounded high lands 
are but the outposts of the great Alleghanies. 

The head-quarters selected was but a 
sample of the cottages scattered throughout 
that rural region, where pretension is so little 
known. 

Near is the small town of Gettysburg, 
occupying one of those shallow valleys be- 
tween corresponding lines of high grounds. 
The principal street seems to correspond in 
direction with the high land, to the north 
and south. This town had then, as now, 
its schools, its collegCj and its theological 
seminary. Lee found it with much the same 
or a less population than at present. This 



22 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

population is disposed to the peaceful and 
plodding. The tocsin had reverberated 
through this valley before his coming. But 
the sound died away to the south, and the 
waveless current of Gettysburg life rolled on, 
even as it rolled before ! Now and then a 
sturdy man went to the war. But boys, 
professors, and ministers make not the ma- 
terial for armed resistance or aggressive war- 
fare. So Lee sat down master of the position: 
rested, refreshed his army — ^burning no ham- 
lets, committing no depredation. On the 
Union side, at the time of his coming, there 
was, indeed, but a handful of armed men in 
the neighborhood. But as the day of trial 
drew on, there was some reinforcement, and 
the small force was led by the heroic Eey- 
nolds. But, however brave and well disci- 
plined, what could a mere handful do in 
opposing a large and well-appointed army ? 
such an army as had taken post along the 
high grounds to the north of Gettysburg ? 

But where is the Army of the Potomac ? 
As far in the rear of Gettysburg, on the last 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 23 

days of June, as the needed Spartans at 
Marathon. This Army of the Potomac, if not 
troubled by the contradictory orders of ten 
generals, who must each rule his day, — as 
the Athenian at Marathon, — had great diffi- 
culty in finding one satisfactory alike to the 
army and country. A battle must be fought, 
and substantial victory declared. If this is 
not accomplished, then the Middle and North- 
ern States, their commercial and manufact- 
uring centres, with the seat of government 
itself, would become the property of the in- 
vaders — be yielded to the control, for the 
time, at least, of an exultant soldiery, per- 
taining to the army of invasion. 

It was a fortunate occurrence, at this junc- 
ture, that General Meade was ordered to 
command the Army of the Potomac. He 
proved the Miltiades of the modern Marathon. 
His elevation was followed by that despatch 
the crisis demanded. The march to Gettys- 
burg hastened. The cavalry arm of the 
Union service was interposed between Lee 
and his base of supplies. This gave the 



24 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

Southern General the first uneasiness, and 
precipitated the battle at Gettysburg. Still 
it was, no doubt, with a feeling of much con- 
tempt for the resistaujce that could be offered 
by the small force under Eeynolds, that the 
contest was opened. It was to the north of 
the town that the terrible conflict began, 
on the first of July, 1863. As the hot 
burning • sun of that day mounted to his 
meridian, Eeynolds, with his handful of men, 
as opposed to nearly 100,000, might well 
have wished for night to come sooner, or the 
Army of the Potomac to appear in force. 

Ah! night came only too soon, with its 
shroud of darkness, for the heroic General of 
the first day's fight on this renowned field. 
Conspicuous, — the soul of every plan and 
strategic movement, — our hero fell, in front of 
a beautiful open grove of oaks, pierced by the 
cowardly ball of a sharp-shooter. His death 
was a great loss to the country, and a most 
severe blow to the work of the day. A retreat 
was hastily conducted, that brought the Union 
forces through the affrighted town, followed 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 27 

closely by their pursuers. The post was 
taken, however, as designated by Keynolds 
before his fall. His order, if driven,— and he 
knew they must be, if unsupported,— was for 
the forces to fall back, and take a defensive 
stand on Cemetery Hill. This is the hand- 
somely-swelling highland at the south of the 
town. To the Union forces that had taken 
stand upon this Hill night came- it found 
them baffled, dispirited, and unsupported. 
The first day had been long, trying and per- 
ilous. Their lamented leader had fallen; the 
night itself was sultry; the moonlight seemed 
heated, and the air sulphurous and oppres- 
sive. The town was in the possession of the 
invader. His line of pickets ran along the 
lower terrace of the highland, where the 
Union force had halted for determined stand. 
The troops occupied the elevation, with Gulp's 
Hill to the right, and Round Top to the left. 
These heights gave admirable position for the 
defensive. Support was needed, and it came: 
under the cover of night, it came. Its 
silence foreshadowed success. The Baltimore 



28 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

Pike, leading south, was open to the unob- 
structed approach of the coming forces. 

Meade, the new commander, was in ad- 
vance of the hurrying army corps. He. 
endorsed, with encomium, the central position 
seized, requiring that it should be held at any 
cost. The disposition of forces, as fast as they 
arrived, was made accordingly. It was bold 
to seize this centre, with its outlying hills 
right and left. It was braver to hold these 
in the face of such a line of artillery as 
fronted on the corresponding heights of Sem- 
inary Ridge — artillery of heaviest calibre, 
posted at leisure, and trained to such accu- 
racy, that every shot must tell. The arrival 
of General Meade, on the night of the first, 
was followed fast by the hurrying divisions 
of the Army of the Potomac. 

By the morning of the second, the newly 
arrived forces stand, disposed with masterly 
skill, along that three miles of high land, 
having Cemetery Hill for centre. Gulp's Hill 
to the right, and Round Top to the left. No 
cannonading on the morning of the second, 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 29 

that was in any way formidable. The pause 
gave the brief respite so needed by the over- 
marched Union forces, ultimately proving 
their salvation. 

The delay was a great mistake in the 
commander of the opposing forces. Lee 
hitherto had been so quick to seize and im- 
prove advantage, that this yielded pause, 
this fatal delay, is not easily accounted for. 
To his assisted eye there appeared a persis- 
tant stand on Cemetery Hill. This, he might 
have thought, could be dislodged or quickly 
flanked. This stand routed, — the success of 
yesterday followed up, — and the probably 
advancing columns of the Union Army could 
be met and overcome in detail. Then Phila- 
delphia, Baltimore and Washington would be 
open to his troops, as certainly as there are 
roads leading thither. But this bliss of 
thought, such expectation, could not have 
prevailed had Lee comprehended that a 
powerful army was now stretching along the 
highlands here, fronting those where he had 
so skilfully taken post — the army that for- 



30 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

bids further invasion. Lee is surveying the 
modern Marathon, but does not know it. His 
lookout this morning is the finest his side of 
the town can offer. Gulp's Hill, wooded and 
swelling, is brought in range of his glass. 
The gentler slope of Cemetery Hill is scanned. 
Moving his glass slowly, it brings in soon the 
frowning Eound Tops — the less and gentler 
elevation of that name lying nearest Ceme- 
tery Hill. The heights are all fine, and ad- 
mirably adapted for a famous battle-ground. 
But where are the men ? Such the pertinent 
question. It was soon answered, — They are 
there. A strong wall of defence has been 
shaped, built up there during the past 
night. Not conspicuous this wall from the 
opposite hill — for ravine, copse, rolling inter- 
mediate ground and forest intercept. The 
survey, most carefully made, is indeterminate 
of real fact. But this wall is there, movable 
at once and massive. 

But the morning of the second day of bat- 
tle has passed. It has been comparatively 
quiet along the lines. The Union soldier 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 31 

has taken breath since his arrival. But 
when is the cannonading to begin, and the 
fiercer charge to succeed? It is past the 
meridian. There is a signal — and that line 
of cannon, posted lor miles along the ridge, 
opens upon Cemetery Hill. In the pause of 
the morning, there had been time to lay down 
obelisk, cross, and tablet on the summit of 
the hill, which ground had been consecrated 
to the dead. It was well that the pious 
command to do this had been issued in time, 
for the shower of exploding shells, solid shot, 
and hurled missiles of every description, was 
fearful beyond conception. These missiles 
fell but to pierce, plough, and crush. Nothing, 
it would seem, could stand before such an at- 
tack. Yet the centre wavered not, however 
fierce the onset; and the assailants found the 
response as heavy in return. All along from 
Gulp's Hill away to the left blazed the cor- 
don of heaviest artillery. It was perceived 
now by Lee, that there was a General and an 
army on the heights occupied by the Union 
forces, as well as along the brow and slopes 



32 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 



of Seminary Eidge. So the contest raged, 
with far greater fury than on the former da}-, 
along the lengthened lines. To outflank or 
break the centre of the Union force was Lee's 
full determination. The preceding evening, 
either could have been done ; on the morning 
of this day, it might have been accomphshed, 
but not without the greatest loss. At noon, 
the Union Army, in its strength, was posted 
along its whole line of battle. At the open- 
ing of the assailing cannonade it was impreg- 
nable. So it proved, being tried, — tested in 
every way with a fury and determination 
that perhaps was never equalled. 

The charge to left — with repulse ; renewed, 
with attempt to dislodge from Round Top — 
failed. Then followed the attempt upon the 
right, and fiercer press upon the centre. 
But in vain. No wedge could be made to 
enter, and no diversion bend. 

The fighting upon and near the Eound 
Tops this day exceeded, in persistence and 
fury, that of any other portion of the wide- 
spread, bloody field. 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 35 

Little Eound Top was the scene of desper- 
ate struggle, as also the higher eminence. 
The Pennsylvania Keseryes here covered 
themselves with glory. 

Whoever has seen this portion of the 
famous field, can never forget its strange and 
most striking aspect, especially when con- 
templated as a battle-ground. 

The higher eminence, Big Eound Top, is 
scattered so thickly with granitic bowlders 
from base to summit, as to suggest that the 
wars of the Titans might have opened here. 
In this battle of the second day, the fighting 
amidst the bold masses of rock — the hand- 
to-hand encounters must have required a 
potency of nerve, a vigor of determination 
that the bravest could scarcely be able to 
support. Late in the afternoon of this day, 
the fearful charges, surging around its base, 
extended far up among the rocks. The re- 
sponding artillery of the two armies, rever- 
berating in awful intonation amid the 
separate and superimposed masses of bowl- 
der, added to tliat awfulness. So, too, that 



,3G BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

carnage of the near clover field, — the literal 
mowing down of men in the peach orchard, 
lying a little to the north of west from Eoiind 
Top. These near and associated combina- 
tions of horror and carnage have, perhaps, 
never been so persistently presented by a 
battle-field of any country, or time. 

But with all this cost and action, in this 
portion of the field, as elsewhere, the assail- 
lants were compelled to fall back, with 
frightful decimation, to their morning posi- 
tions for a little rest. The battle had raged 
with little abatement of fury until a late 
hour; so the time for rest was very brief. At 
length, there was something like the silence 
of night through the town and over the 
field. The morrow will come — it must be 
decisive. The great questions of constitu- 
tional law and unity left to the arbitrament 
of the sword must receive decision to-morrow. 
Shall a fundamental principle of our Decla- 
ration find its demonstration at length? 
Shall the majesty of law be held sacred, or 
faction rule? Shall we indeed become a 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 37 

dissevered nation, or shall we see the bleed- 
ing, gaping wounds close? All these im- 
portant considerations, and more, seem bound 
up in the issues of to-morrow. A moment- 
ous day and a momentous battle! 

Time hastened on; and the third day's 
contest was decided in favor of freedom, law 
and progress. 

The opening cannonade of this last day of 
the struggle is said to have been more tre- 
mendous by far than the preceding. Two 
hundred itnd fifty cannon at one time were 
hurling their volleyed thunders around the 
Union centre, on Cemetery Hill. 

From under these sulphurous clouds — and 
plunging from thence into the suffocating 
blackness now rising above — and now rolling 
down through the valleys from Cemetery 
Hill, there is presented a new phase of 
daring. ''The Louisiania Tigers" charge 
upon the right centre of the Union army. 
Like the animal whose name they aptly bore, 
they came on their covert track without 
warning, and charged upon their prey as if 



38 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

a thousand jungles had been unloosed. 
Fierce, sudden and overwhelming as this 
attack was designed to prove, it was beaten 
back, and the ravine through which they 
were hurried was strewn with bleeding 
corpses. Associated with this, is made the 
last charge upon the left centre of the Union 
forces. This charge is eighteen thousand 
strong. The flower of southern chivalry, 
without figure of speech, — young men, and 
brave. These were disciplined to such pre- 
cision of movement as nothing, it would 
seem, could jostle or disarrange. The charge 
combined the weight of the phalanx with 
the swiftness of the legion. As the shadow 
of a hastening cloud, they move over the 
intervening fields, uncovered to the sweeping 
artillery of the Union centre, which literally 
mows their ranks as they rapidly approach; 
but the widest gaps in the advancing 
columns are so quickly closed, as to make 
the beholder doubt it has been made. Thus 
on and on hurry these charging columns, 
without pause, and without falter, until 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 41 

bayonet and ball threaten positive annihila- 
tion. Thus approaching, and thus received 
— faltering not, even now, but falling in 
cumbrous heaps, — sinking as by legions. It 
is enough. Never was there a bloodier field 
and never a more determined charge than 
those closing the contest at Gettysburg. It is 
enough — the question is decided. Our country 
has vouchsafed a future of more glory, too, 
than that covering her past renown. 

The tide of invasion is dashed back ; and 
the recoil is such as to plainly indicate the 
ultimate Union triumph. 

The Persian monarch retired from Mara- 
thon with a routed army. The prestige of 
success had departed ; one defeat cancelling 
so many victories ! 

Lee drew off his shattered forces from 
Gettysburg, and recrossed the Potomac. So 
this most formidable armed resistance to 
Constitutional law and right was closed on 
the soil the slave had hitherto soAvn and 
reaped. But the victory here achieved was 
a triumph of freedom. The last rivet had 



42 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

fallen from the shackles of the slave, and his 
enfranchisement was a foregone decision 
when the last charge of Lee failed on the 
field of Gettysburg. 

At Marathon, the triumph of the Greek 
was followed by the most interesting conse- 
quences. The Parthenon soon crowned the 
Acropolis at Athens. The achievements of 
the chisel of Phidias, in its ornamenta- 
tion, inspired the idea that the gods dwelt 
with men, or that the human mind had 
received new powers, and the hand new 
skill. Art was indeed glorified, and the 
beautiful reigned. The dramatist caught the 
inspiration, and learned to personate the 
thought that breathes, in the word that burns. 
The historian, too, felt the happy influence, 
and wrote with a pen as clear as if dipped 
in light. So the thunder of that eloquence 
that warmed and glowed, while it enforced 
such lessons as the victories of freedom in- 
spired, continues in its vibrations still to 
awaken. 

The victory at Marathon so electrified the 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 43 

Grecian mind, elevated the Grecian charac- 
ter, so inspired the Grecian genius, that fame 
has conferred upon it a lasting immortality. 

The Union victory at Gettysburg is too 
recent to be understood or fully appreciated 
in all its individual and wider national 
bearing. But it has already given a historic 
importance to the locality of the battle that 
must continue, while admiration for bravery 
and sacrifice for country shall animate the 
human heart. Gettysburg has taken its 
rank among the battle-fields of freedom, for 
it became the boundary, beyond which invasion 
could not pass. When the vast tidal wave 
of rebellion rolled up from the southern 
gulf, threatening, for a time, no pause until 
it should mingle with the lakes of the north, 
here it was met and turned backward — to 
menace no more ! and, losing its unity, was 
lost, sinking downward through unseen chan- 
nels, making its slow Avay back, to mingle 
again, without disturbance, in the vast ocean 
of truer thought and purer motive investing 
our grand nationality. 



44 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

Art, the exponent of tendencies and the 
measure of progress, has abeady testified the 
deepest sympathy with the patriotism and 
admiration for the bravery of our citizen 
soldiery. Under such guidance, a portion of 
the stern battle-field here has been smoothed 
with great care, and the fallen of the Union 
host allowed to find quiet sepulture. These 
are gathered here in much closer companion- 
ship than when found after the three days of 
battle. A massive inclosure defends the 
broad acres thus set apart in consecration. 
The granite headstone is directed to be hewn 
and inscribed. Trees of varied flower, form, 
and foliage are planted through the grounds. 
Avenues, cut and gravelled, wind through 
the fields of richest green. On the liighest 
portion of this consecrated slope is raised 
the marble monumental column — so truly 
artistic in conception and finish — symboliz- 
ing what has been — and the glory that will 
be. 

Truly, the painter, the sculptor, and the 
poet, the orator, and the historian, have 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 45 

expressed the fulness of the inspn-ation, born 
of the great issues that were folded up in the 
three days' struggle for a nation's better life 
on the battle-field of Gettysburg. May all 
the lessons deducible therefrom tend but to 
peace and 2^^ogress — to our country's unity 
and greatness to the latest time. 

To make sure the attainment of that end 
— to bequeath in faith the promise of such 
glorious anticipation — we must be true to 
the memory of the sacrificed. We must often 
allow the heart to be made tender by the tale 
of his love — by the moral of that life yielded 
in such beautiful devotion to country and to 
the cause of right. 



IDYL I. 



THE UNKtSrOWN. 



IDYL I. 



LNTRODUCTORY. 
\ 

Our land again is blest ! 

Smiles the sweet peace anew; 
That beautiful behest 

To live as brothers true 
Hence follow'd — still may rise 
Blessing from sacrifice. 

Days hostile, dread and dark I 
The cost we must deplore ; ' 

They leave a scathing mark 
Where all looked fair before — 

Leave a deep, burning trace 

Centuries but eflface. 

4 49 



50 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Just, — and forget the men 
Swelling the mighty host 

Who stood up boldly then, 
Else law and right were lost! 

Yielding the life we prize, 

Forget such sacrifice! 

No! never will forget; 

Nay, never cease to prize ; 
Their glory's sun not set, 

Their noble sacrifice 
Shall live to latest days, 
Chanted in richest lays. 

Yes, — snatched from faction's hate, 
"We yield them unto fame 

Who moored anew our State, 
Drifting on frightful main; 

Who, braving seas of strife, 

Died for a nation's life. 



THE UNKNOWN. 

We yield with pride to fame 
Tlie miglity martyr host, 

Enrolling humblest name, 
Not one of all be lost. 

Tell their touching story. 

Wreathe each name with glory I 

Nor ever die the tale, 

For love we bear his child: 
Pity for her, so pale ; 

Hiding despair, she smiled, 
When, girding armor on, 
The soldier left his home. 

He bade the last adieu. 

And turned so quick away; 

He, the patriot true. 
His country to obey; 

Surrendered home and life. 

01 shield his child, his wife! 



54 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

THE ENLISTMENT. • 

Our patriot soldier of the crisis represents 
the spirit of that innumerable band rallying 
for the defence of the nation's flag. The 
enlistment took place at his workshop, and, 
having put the few things in order there, 
hurries home to make the announcement 
that he is enrolled as one of the citizen 
soldiery. 

He felt how trying would be such an- 
nouncement, and now lingered to gain 
strength, as well as to set his little shop in 
order. It was the twilight hour when he 
sought his home, a mile or two distant. 
With the fervor of accustomed earnestness, 
deepened by the events of the day, on his 
arrival there, the address opens : 

Wife of my bosom, listen. 

Am late from daily toil; 
Why doth the tear-drop glisten, 

Ah! have you learned it all? 



T H E U N K N W N. 55 

The flag again is lower'd, 

Defeat but follows still; 
Complaint is only poured, 

And thousands called to fill 
Broken ranks, and waning. 

We are summon'd to tlie fight; 
New recruits are arming, 

Some leave, dear wife, to night I 

Wife's Eeplt. 

Was it the signal bell? 

Ah! never so before 
Was ev'ry stroke a knell, 

I feared the call once morel 
Counted the hours till night; 

But, dear, you will not go I 
You cannot feel it right! 

Mine! do not leave us so 
Sadly, and all alone; 
QQJng — ne'er to return! 



56 idyls of gettysburg. 

Husband. 

Forbode not thus so ill; 

My trust is in the right. 
A strange continuous thrill 

Pervades my heart to-night. 

I love my wife, my home, 
Love so our children dear! 

But, truly, time has come 
When wrong to linger here. 

The call that came to day, 
More stirring than before, 

We dare not disobey. 

Three hundred thousand more 

Of strong men for the field; 

Of strong men for the fight; 
These, flashing swords must wield; 

Must leave our homes to night! 



THE UNKNOWN. 57 



Wife. 



Mine! do not go; 0, stay! 

Let others meet the foe; 
Stay by thy home, I pray — 

Implore thee, do not go! 

Who goes returneth not; 

The cruel war but slays! 
See our unfinished cot. 

Where each chill wind that strays, 

And where the showers of rain 
Such easy entrance gain. 
Trusting, moi'e comfort here. 
Leave us not thus, my dear! 

Tou see the constant care 
To shield from damp, chill air. 
They are asleep, our three, 
So sweetly — Come and see. 



58 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Our eldest — mark his face; 
Alice — in girlish grace. 
Say, here, thou wilt not go. 
My heart sinks, grieving so! 

Husband. 
Oh! such pleading wounds my heart; 
I would not, so soon, depart — 
Leave in unprepared hour 
To poverty's seeming power, 

Mine, so very, very dear. 
But the peril bids us go; 
Spare the grief, that presseth so. 
Would I had more careful been. 
Provident, as other men; 
Ah! this want of care, my wife, 
Seemeth wrong; but after-life 
Shall atone — all, all so free. 
From the lessons learned at sea! 
I have labor'd; honest brow 
From the workshop cometh now. 



THEUNKNOWN. 59 

I labor, but have no care; 

Money goes for any prayer; 

Open hand— and heart, you know, 

Melted by the tale of woe. 

Impulsive — wife, dry that tear! 

Forgive — henceforth never fear. 

My every fault I see, 

Could now weep for poverty; 

Feel deeply this want of thought. 

See the evil it has wrought. 

Trust me! I will be more just 

Be happier — fully trust. 

The cot improved, feel the cheer; 

Read the promise written here. — 

The villagers will repair. 

Adding other needed care. 

For our children, for thee, wife! 

They promise care, through the strife. 

Shelter'd soon, from wind and rain, 

So, ere winter comes again. 



60 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

More of comfort will be here; 

Better walls and roof, my dear! 

There is Jiope, for darkest hour, — 

And with reproach, still the power 

To follow whither duty leads; 

Stand for country — in her needs. 

So, loving thee all the more 
For each privation shared before. 
Loving with the fondest heart — 
The country's peril bids us part. 
Say to me, Go! speed me on! 
Enrolled, before rising sun 
Looks again on battles lost, — 
On campaign, such life has cost! 
Gi'eat the peril, cease delay. 
Speed me ere another day! 
Bid us all be veiy brave, 
Keep our vow, the flag to save! 
In cause sacred, and so just, 
God will shield — the holy trust, 



T H E U N K N W N. 61 

Succor those we leave behind, 
Folding in His mercy kind. 
Dear wife! this trust, so be thine! 
Teach our children, — it is mine. — 
The good pastor came to share 
In decision, — would prepare 
To meet trial, that has come, 
Do the work that must be done. 
Feels the conflict's very sore. 
Asking for so many more! 
Earnest hope, expressed, as fears, 
Spoke tenderly, half in tears; 
Knew each trial, — all too well, 
Sought the sadness to dispel; 
Pointed to the flag unfurled 
As freedom's, — and the world. 
Its support claimed of the free; 
Its cause the right, humanity. 
Bade us keep the flag in sight, 
Standing firmly in the right. 



62 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Martyrs falling on the field, 
Country's grateful love, the shield, 
Stretching over those we left. 
Would kind console, if bereft. 
Tremble not, wife, at the thought 
Of devotion only wrought. 
Tremble not, but bless, I pray, — 
Time presses, I must away. 
Swift in duty bid me be; 
Wake not, wife, our cherished three; 
It wdll so oppress my heart — 
Let me kiss them, so depart! 
Their picture, by early mail. 
Send to the camp, do not fail! 
Will keep it so near my heart; 
For all they are, all thou art, 
Makes me strong in cause so just — 
Home and country are my trust! 
Dear, be firm, be fondly true. 
Heaven keep you all, loved, adieu! 



T H E U N K N W N . (>^ 

Silence and grief watch that night, 
Both were there; but morning Hght 
Calls the prattlers from their rest 
With faces bright — cheered her breast; 
Constant burden — and so care 
Lived within the cottage there. — 
The day all toil, — night brought rest; 
Sometimes came a message blest 
From the lield, as when the fray 
Had passed, granted, he would say 

"all is well." 
Then the little cot was bright 
Through the day, and through the night, 
Until fear would so dispel 
Joy that came with "all is well." 
So the days but weave the years, 
Faileth hope — so true our fears! 
But the i)icture of the three, 
Thought the soldier could not be 
Greater charm than met him here, 
Gazing on their faces dear. 



64 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Asks his heart, "Who not bless God, 
Even from the pillow sod;" 
For thought of these, through the night 
And the glance, by morning light. 

* * :f: ^i^ * 

Life was changeful in the cot. 

Trust, so calm, did God allot 

Him, who dared, endured, prayed 

That contest cruel be allayed; 

Who saw in banner, waving free, 

Thus triumphant — Liberty ! 

Lonely watch is charmed by love; 

When the bright clear stars above 

Looked so loving from the sky. 

Then each thought would homeward fly. 

NIGHT WATCH NEAR FREDERICKSBURG-. 

"I walk the frequent round. 
But hear no warlike sound. 
Our little ones in bed, 
Each before, prayer has said, — 



THE UNKNOWN 65 

Came thus my name to-night? 
Ah! yes — well, that is right. 
Dear Frank and Ally pray, 
And little Fred, you say; 
Fond thought, so loves to dwell; 
The message, — 'all is well!'" 

But rages still a nation's strife, 

The soldier trusts; but weeps the wife. 

GETTYSBURG. 

Boundary passed by hostile host, 
Both pride and prestige swell its boast, 
Soon, through those green and quiet glades, 
Soon, through the leafy, forest shades, 
Screeches the fearful, bursting shell, 
Mingled with battle's frightful yell; 
'Till rounded hill, in leafy dell, 
Through gorge, ravine, as on the plain. 
All thickly scattered, lie the slain! 



QQ IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

On this famed field, where legions reeled, 
Whose thousands, sinking, thereby sealed 
In death a nation's new-born life, 
Where peace was made thro' fiercest strife: 
Here, where the firm and fearless North 
Met the flaming, fiery South: 
Both pouring forth their noblest blood, 
That flowed and surged in common flood; 
Here, where the sacred flag and free 
Triumphed, at length, gloriously. 
Under whose starry, drooping fold. 
Slept the soldier, in death so cold! 
He stood unhurt — the first rude clash, 
Unhurt, 'mid sword and musket flash; 
Rushed boldly, when the charge w^as made. 
Defied the point of traitorous blade; 
He pauses not, nor feared to die, 
Beautiful in all fidelity! 
Long, long the conflict had begun; 
Many a charge was lost or won, 



THE [J N K N W N, G7 

Where, continuous sliot or shell 
Wounded, wasted — thickest fell; 
And aided, too, with Hashing steel, 
Assailed, assailant, bend or reel — 
Where all was horror, carnage sore, 
Here bowed the brave, to rise no more. 
So slow he drags from out the fray, 
Clasps the picture and tries to pray. 
"God! shield the country of my birth, 
Defend the flag of all the earth! 
It waveth still, I dimly see; 
This must be death and — victory! 
God! my children — ^hear this prayer; 
Keep, keep them, in Thy mercy's care; 
Be Thou their Father, Blessed One! 
And help me say, 'Thy will be done.'" 

*♦* •>* "I* 'V" 

Glorious vision calms the soul; 
The shreds of life become a whole; 



68 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

The home of childhood seemeth near, 

Beautiful, as in memory dear. 

So, quiet seas, with islands green, 

Liorht the beatific scene ; 

Fruits and flowers to inner eyes, 

Waving, as those of paradise. 

The humble cot, the home so dear, 

Was to the spirit's vision clear. 

So, too, the charmed pictured three, 

Joyous in childish gayety, 

Thus playing, near the open door, 

Their very laugh rang out once more. 

Saw, too, their mother's eye of love; 

Came calm submission from above, 

Murmurs again, "Thy will be done, 

Accept in Christ, I come, I come." 

So the patriot martyr died, 

In faith, as beautiful, as tried; 

Pressing the picture to his breast, 

Touching and lovely, let it rest 




UNION soldiers' graves. 




CONFEDERATE GRA' ES, 



THEUNKNOWN. 71 

Until the battle's deafening roar 
Is heard in Gettysburg no more. 
Then will come the burial rite, 
Hiding the ghastly, terrible fight. 

THE SCENE AND BURIAL. 

There they lie! pale, noble still; 
Look! side by side, on plain and hill, 
What a sight! and it well may thrill 
A nation's heart; palsy the hand, 
Drawing fierce, that traitorous brand. 
Would it were stayed, its vengeful ire 
Annealed anew in freedom's fire. 
Losing thus each crimson stain, 
Attempered there to peace again. 
Its cruel work here done too well! 
Its work, so fearful, fierce, and fell! 

Dull earth ! open thy quiet breast, 
Give its victims place of rest; 



72 IDYLS OF GETTYSBUBG. 

Take the noble patriot slain, 

To the embrace they justly claim. 

4» # ^ 

Out of the line of bloody fray, 
In peaceful rest the unknown lay. 
Blest angel forms had watched with care 
The chill, stiff corse slumbering there. 
The face — expressive, pale, still shone — 
Light lingered when the soul had gone. 
"Here another, — our noble dead 
Strew the wide field," so solemn said. 
This man died by the streamlet's brink, 
Trying, perhaps in vain, to drink. 
Ah! here! — a picture on his breast. 
By stiff hand, now so closely pressed. 
His children, verily; yes, three, — 
Last gaze — God, the agony! 
Full consciousness of ebbing life, 
Kegret, remorse, the strength, the strife, 



THEUNKNOWX. 73 

Chaos of thought, within tlie soul, 
Drifting toward the unseen goal ; 
Love brooded o'er this upturned sea, • 
Giving to faith the victory. 

He died, — aye! as the Christian dies. 
All darkness from his pathway flies; 
Soft light is on the marble brow, 
So lovely, with peace of heaven now. 
The attitude but speaketh rest, 
Entire expression calm and blest. 

Unloose the picture, now to tell 

VYhere the patriot martyr fell. 

Place of sacrifice, — his deep love, 

The story must the heart so move! 

His humble grave, w^e mark "Unknown," 

The lowly mound, without a stone! 

How know the name? What can unseal? 

The picture may sometime reveal! 



74 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Take it lovingly, from its rest; — 

Carefully; see, how it is pressed, 

As if, still fondly, to his breast, — 

He holds his children with such love 

As conquered when with death it strove. 
* * * 

The picture's story traveled far — 
Most thrilling story of the war. 
Many wept as they read the tale. 
But tears or wishes, nought avail. 
Inquiries came, — kind answer went, — 
For time, much skill, and true art lent 
To reproduce the pictured three. 
With nice, as strict fidelity. 
The fair reprint, at length obtained 
Deepened interest — that was gained. 
The picture read, wherein Avas seen 
Each little face ; its touching mien 
Wrought desire to trace the " Unknown.'' 
Would find these children of his home, 



THE UNKNOWN. » 75 

Soothe these desolate, bring relief, 

So their' s became a common grief. 
* * * 

But pass the weeks, the months away, 

And bring a chill November day. 

The bloody field had hid its slain. 

The recent carnage left no stain. 

In darkened homes, the vacant chair — 

Desolate homes were ev'rywhere. 

'Twas a frightful, terrible field, 

Whereon the nameless soldier sealed 

His love of country and of home; 

Yet, head-stone there but says "Unknown!" 

Long rains had washed, cold dews had 

w^ept ! 
Late autumn winds now hoarsely swept 
Over the low, lessening mound, 
"Unknown" the murmur of each sound. — 
In distant cot, humble as lone, 
Was heard inquiry's earnest tone 



76 . I D Y L S F GETTYSBURG. 

"Our dear father! when will he come? 
He wrote he would, away last June; 
The hills ai'e now so very white — 
I dream of him, mamma, each night. 
He promised us new sleds and sleighs. 
Mamma, why is it that he stays?" 
So urged the merry little Fred; 
Thus talking all the way to bed. 
Patient, silent, the moth<=jr smiled; 
Pressed to her heart the happy 'child. 
Bright, lovely dreams were for the boy, 
But fears the mother's peace destroy. 
Anxious, watching, worn with care. 
Sick — in hospital? in prison — where? 
Sad forboding, when will it end ? ' 
Oh intelligence! Send, send! 
Came, at last, to the cot so lone, 
Thrilling tale of the long "Unknown!" 
With fearful, breathless inteiest read, 
Alas ! alas ! she knew — her dead. 



T H E U N K N W N. 79 

The story his, she knew too well; 
Yes, there he fought, and there he fell, 
Unknown, clasping the pictured three, 
Was her own — Ah ! the agony. 
The sad unveiling of that hour, 
To tell — words, truly, have no power. 
Aye! such deep grief is only known 
To HEARTS thus jpierced, desolate, lone. 

And now the group, so pale with feai', 
She calls, "Come to me, children dear 
Kneel near me on the cottage floor." 
The lone, and sad, bereaved four. 
Pray the orphan and widow's God, 
Claim the promise of Precious Word. 
Thank Him — the father lost is found, 
But sleeps in death on battle ground. 
So bravely, nobly there he fell! 
Can we repeat, the "All is well.'' 



80 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

THE PICTURE RETURNED FROM 
THE FATAL FIELD. 

Generous stranger, and so kind, 
Speeds his way, the bereaved to find, 
With this picture, the dying pressed ; 
His parting soul tenderly blest. 
When breathing forth a last deep prayer, 
Mid the battle's sulphurous air; 
Commending thus to pitying heaven, 
The life, the children God had given. 
* * * 

Lovely the humanity that wrought 
For bereaved in the distant cot, 
Beautiful the charity, and true, 
That bids, kindly, for other do 
Generous act, make sacrifice, 
With sorrow ever sympathise, 
'Tis thus we take so much from grief. 
Thus giving, we find a true relief. 



THE UNKNOWN. 81 

So in the martyred soldier's home, 
Most isolated and most lone, 
As came the facts from fatal field. 
The sad bereavement, nought concealed. 
The yielded life, its close with prayer, 
Came gracious act, and kindness rare. 
Our soldier died, but love should live; 
We gave, and still, if just, we give. 
Precious life, as offering made. 
Disunion's baleful wrong has stayed. 
Then count not him, as one unknown, 
Whose blood has stained the altar-stone — 
Flowing in frightful flood, and free, 
For naiioriJs law and unity, 

THE ORPHAN'S HOME. 

On the hallowed battle ground, 
This soldier's orphan children found 

So soon a cheerful, charming home; 

6 



82 IDYLS OFGETTYSBURG. 

With these are many orphans more, 

Whose fathers fell in conflict sore. 

Our nation's justice these may claim, 

Sure, no child of patriot slain 

Should ever want for daily bread — 

By vow to him, the martyred dead. 

Yes, — shelter, train his orphan child, 

Lead by love to the Fndefiled; 

Guard him kindly, 'mid helpless years, 

Pity his sorrows, dry his tears. 

Aye ! by our soldier's trust and prayer, 

Yield him the needed, promised care! 

Teach him the lessons the good should learn, 

So God will bless the land in turn; 

The yawning gulf ope not again. 

That closed above patriot slain — 

The frightful gulf, gaping so wide, 

And closed, but when our best had died. 



IDYL II. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 



IDYL II. 



§Iij|hM, ^Jt §jautiful. 

THE ANCESTRAL HOME OP A UNION OFFICER, WHO FELL 
IN THE SECOND DAT'S FIGHT, AT GETTYSBURG. 

The Union soldier's home 

Was shrined in lovely vale: 
The poplar's mounting cone, 
• Leaf tremulous and pale, 
Stood at the entrance gate. 
Warden, to watch and wait. 

Within, the lawn was wide, 
Through which a brooklet ran, 

Flowers grew upon its side. 
And rustic bridge did span; 

Fragrant thorn fenced the bounds. 

Shut lawn, and garden grounds. 

85 



86 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Woods, SO thick, — fields beyond, — 
That stretch far, far away, 

To a blue lakelet pond. 

Thence, to a sheltered bay — 

That brimmed with eveiy tide, 

Where fairy yacht did glide. 

The massive mansion old. 

In record of its years, 
Whose touching annals told 

The tales of joy and tears. 
These grand old walls, and gray, 
Had stood for many a day. 

The present master, brave. 
Hurries from foreign shore, 

A few brief orders gave, 
And turns away, once more; 

Passes the warden gate. 

Hastes to a martyr's fate! 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 87 

MEETING AT YALE. 

Where graceful elm, in leafy pride, 
Shades the avenues — trim and wide, 
Where charmed philosoi3hic light, 
Beams steadily, and softly bright; 
Where learned culture blends and binds 
Relining character, as minds; 
With skill reducing ev'ry ore, 
Blend in brotherhood evermore 
Those of manliest strength and fire, 
With these of calmer thought, and higher. 
Here, thus met, strong in sympathy. 
The two of strange, sad destiny! 
One from the cold, hardier North, 
Other, from warm, genial South. 
They both so loved the classic page, 
Admired the poet, not less the sage. 
One reticent, if not more learned. 
The other, half in scorn, oft turned 



88 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Away from books, so quick to scan, 
As smoother verse, so living man. 
Both noble in their rivalry, 
Courteous thus their chivalry. 
Graceful, yielding to just demand, 
Neither mixed, or ever Dlanned, 
The small sports, — aiming to annoy, 
That spoil the man, as mar the boy. 
Rather, years earnest, pass away, 
And bring so soon the parting day. 
With kindest feeling spoke adieu! 
And Yale's loved shades are lost to view. 
Life in its meaning, and its strength, 
Stood all revealed to each at length, 
They saw blacken, a nation's sky, 
Both heard addressed the startling cry: 
To Arms! To Arms! Be men or die. 

While roar of battle shook the main, 
And air on land is sulph'rous llame, 
Where stands the famous class of Yale? 
Where the two friends? Ah! list the tale! 



iiiiii, 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFtTL. 89 

JOURNEY OF THE CONFEDERATE'S WIDOW TO 
GETTYSBURa LONG AFTER THE BATTLE. 

Unfading immortelles 

Have graced long the portals 

Of her love's empty tomb; 
One hastens to-morrow, 
In journey with sorrow, 

Asking sadly the boon, 
To kneel nearer her dead, 
Press the dust where he bled. 

If, thus in grief, must go. 
Would pardon still, late foe. 

Tread thus the quiet field, 
That prowess fairly won, 
Where mound and sculptured stone, 

Where, too, a nation's shield. 
Keeps guard o'er half its dead. 
But knows not her's, that bled. 



90 IDYLS OF GErTYSBURG. 

One is to meet her there, 
Whose melting love and prayer, 

"Whose sweetest constancy, 
Has been so strong and true. 
Has counselled to subdue 

All strife with destiny; 
To trust, henceforth, to Heaven 
Forgive, and be forgiven. 

SORROW— ITS POWER. 

Who lives this life, and hath not wept? 
Even as laughing eyes have slept. 
Parting, the clasping lash hath stole 
Such proof of sorrow from the soul ; 
But the deep grief of weary years 
Tells not its agony in tea^rs. 
How fearful, wholly vain our strife. 
So mighty, crushing out the life; 
Leaving a calm, profound despair, 
Where all was once but bright and fair. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 93 

So, sad in heart, this weary one 
Leaves for a time her darkened home. 
Journeying in her weeds of woe — 
A holy love hath bade her go. 
Yain the beautiful to her eye. 
Unheard are tones of sympathy. 
Was lost, so lost, to one deep grief- 
Is there, God! for such relief? 
Is there calm for that sad brow? 
Must all be dark as seemeth now? 
But list the story of her grief, 
Told in her thrilling words — and brief. 

THE FATAL ENCOUNTER REHEARSED WHILE 
WAITING ON THAT PORTION OP THE PIELD 
KNOWN AS CEMETERY HILL. 

Why comes she not ? All is forgiven, 
Her early love knew no delay, 

To us, no hope is ours — ^but heaven; 
All earthly joy has passed away. 



94 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Yet life's blest morn to both Avas bright, 
But ere the noon came darkest night; 
Our parting followed bridal days, 
Our meeting sad, with mournful bays! 

LOOKING TOWARDS GETTYSBURG. 

Most unfamiliar seem these skies, 

Impressive still, the hill and plain. 
Where yonder ramparts lengthened rise — 
Ah ! o'er that mountain wall he came, 
A part to bear in the awful strife ; 
Here, to yield a beautiful life, 
He, the courteous, and the brave, 
Whom faction could not claim as slave. 

These heights, all clothed in purple light. 
Saw first, at last eve's setting sun. 

Knew the presence of beauty's might. 
Yet only thought, and felt he came, 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 95 

Over that gorgeous mountain wall, 
But in the humblest grave to fall. 
He, the best of an honored name, 
Whose sacred dust now cannot claim. 



Ah! turning to the southern sky, 

Higher the rugged Eound Top rose, 
Bearing a bowlder crest on high — - 

While at the base, am told there flows, 
That muddy brook, along the dell. 
Where fiercest showers of battle fell. 
Fell in the lead and iron hail. 
Shrouding the mountain and the vale! 

And mingling came the flash of steel; 

Banks dashing as the maddened sea! 
They form, they rush, they stand or reel, 

With each 'tis death, or victory! 



96 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Thus, daring, pressing on the line, 
FaUing — not one — but her's, and mine! 
Alas! the thrust received, and given, 
The fatal thrust! two lives thus riven. 

God! yet lived, who smote, to know 
Each bore the fratricidal steel; 

There slew the friend, in guise of foe, 
No words the horror may reveal. 

Instant driven on brink of fate — 

All now undone,?^ but too late! 

Dying — a moment left for prayer; 

Forgiving, — thus they perished there. 

Alas! where Eound Top's shadows fall. 
So deeply dark, in leafy shade. 

Without flag, or funeral pall, 

Her's and mine in death were laid. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 99 

Ah! mine and her's, the true and brave, 
So strangely filled one, bloody grave, 
While the tremor of coni3ict pealed, 
And surging columns dashed or reeled. 

But when that awful battle roar 

Was hushed, within the frighted vale. 
Amid the carnage, and the gore. 

Trod one, with face as pale 
As those of calm, reposing dead. 
The rains had washed from stains of red, — 
Her face, in pallor so like death. 
Differed — for came and went the breath. 

To her that grave gave half its prey, 
And only marred, by single thrust. 
Then borne so tendei'ly away, 
And gathered to ancestral dust; 



100 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

With pomp of war, in depth of grief, 
The last rite paid her mart3a'ed chief. 
Banner and pkime drooped o'er lier slain, 
But mine was left, and without name. 



Yet marked — in agony of gloom. 

The place of the dark, bloody grave, 
In the light of the struggling moon, 

Marked, and so carefully to save 
This spot of earth, to me so dear, 
Yet, awful through a chilling fear. 
To her memory — only pain. 
Grave of the slayers, and the slain! 

Earth sure has nobleness most high, 
And love, so tender, deep, and pure; 

The love that mates us with the sky. 
And wreck of all things shall endure; 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 101 

Glowing in beauty, when the sun 
Closes his round, his mission done, 
Lives this love, so like to heaven, 
But to the blessed only given. 

■ PARTIl^G AND RE-UNIOI!^. 

The parted for years met that night; 
But flowing tears dimmed not the sight. 
From an adieu of tenderness; 
Their later sorrows fathomless. 
So, this chosen place of meeting, 
All their touching words of greeting, 
Spoke the soul, in truest greatness 
Expressed of grief, — but tenderness 
Of feeling — only nobleness. 

* * * 

They parted in joy, met in grief — 
Parted in hope; the bridal wreath 
Pressed each brow with an easy grace, 
One, wearing the spiritual face 



102 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

That painter, and poet admire; 

Other flashed the essential fire 

Of genius, so wild and free, 

Lovely, perfect, in symmetry. 

One went forth to a southern home, 

Other, o'er classic lands to roam ; 

One breathed fragrance of orange bloom, 

Other wreathed bays, near Virgil's tomb ; 

Sought the zephyr, courted the breeze, 

Braved the gusts of the Pyrenees, 

Lingered amid the glory of art, 

The beautiful, thrilling the heart; 

Passed there the smiling, happy years, 

Where nature, art, and song endears. 

LETTERS RECEIVED AND SENT. 

So sprightly, from the jasmine bower, 
Sped the sweet note of hidden power 
Winging, so swift, the changeful deep, 
A hand enfolds, and warm hearts speak 



BLIGHTED, Y E T B E A UT I F U L . 103 

So gracefully, in truth and love. 

With beauty freighted, sweet reply 

Is wafted West, as happily. 

Witching in story, song and art, 

Gathered from wider, richer mart. 

Radiant, with the heart's own glow. 

Changeful, like light on, mountain snow, 

Warm, in its amethystine hue. 

As varied, and ever new ; 

Glowing, melting, as morning light, 

On steepy sides of Alpine height; 

Painted thus lovely and bright the page, 

In quaint, classic, grotesque or sage. 

* * * * 

But this charmed poetic life 
Changed at once, when the civil strife 
So menaced our strength and power. 
Bringing for all, the trial hour. 
The Nation's flag of golden stars, 
The flag of white and crimson bars, 



\ 

104 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Floating out on the tioubled breeze, 
In beckoning fold, on land and seas, 
Called the patriot-faithful home — 
Who loves the flag must cease to roam. 
It leads the West — the mighty North, 
While flaunts another from the South. — 
The fearful lines of death are drawn, 
So city, hamlet, crowded town, 
Pour forth their legions for the fight, 
Bidding these live, or die for right. • 
Most painful, pitiful the day. 
When love and peace seem swept away. 
Buried beneath the battle's tide, — 
Brother, in brother's blood so dyed. 
Wliere friend meets friend on hostile field, 
And vengeful brand each life has sealed ! 
So runs our sad, and cruel tale 
Of martial classmates of old Tale. 
Alas! the fearful, frightful strife — 
Denuinding sternly life for life. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 107 

So cruel, vengeful, to the last; 
Thank God, for mercy — it is past! 

AT THE GRAVE OF THE COIs'FEDERATE 
SLAIN. 

They met that night 
In solemn rite; 
Above the dead 
Was service read; 
Deep, trusting prayer, 
Waked the still air 
In Round Top's vale. 
While o'er his clay 
The wreathed bay 
Is gently laid, — 
Requiem said. 
• Bright stars above 
So soft looked down — 
The air is love. 
The distant town 



108 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Knew not the rite 

Of this late night. 
Alone with God 

The living stood! 
Alone — weary — 
Thought so dreary 
Might fill each soul. 
Heaven, pitiful, 
Heaven, merciful! 
Peace breathed within; 
The earnest prayer. 
Found answer there. 
And now they stand, 
Joined, hand to hand, 
O'er the low head 
Of sleeping dead. 
Then, cross and bay, 
In love, they lay ; 
Then kneel to pray. 
And tremulous say; 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 109 

Rest thee, Rest! 

Spirit now blest. 

Rest tliee in heaven. 

Spirit forgiven! 

Washed from dark sin, 

Folded within 

Embrace so blest, 

Rest thee, rest! 
* * * 

Requiem said 
Above the dead. 
That deeper prayer — 
Then, silence there 
Again keeping, 
The dead sleeping 
In the low vale, 
Where chant and wail 
No more is heard, — 
The dust unstirred 
To the last day. 



110 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

But the bowed went forth from the rite, 

With a sweet peace and hope that night, 

To a new, and beautiful life — 

With holiest charity rife — 

Calmly bidding the mount and dell. 

With sacred dust, a last farewell! 

DEPARTURE. 
Emerging from the leafy wood, 

Where, now, attendants waiting stood ; 

Were borne from thence so fast away, 

That long before the risen day, 

Eound Top's crest was lost to view, 

As other sweep of highlands too. 

That, curving, seem to fence around 

The town, with bloodiest battle ground. 

These hills, first seen in purple light, 

As mantling beauty crowns each height, 

Three times have faded on the view ; 

But love now filled her heart anew ; 

Peaceful, like heaven, their last adieu. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. Ill 

Lovely — still was their greeting sad, 
Solemnly — ^yet the parting glad. 

WOMAK— HER POWER. 

Holy the sympathy to woman given; . 

Beautiful her mission, ordained of heaven. 

So sacred her trust, she may well beware; 

Trifle not ; but strong in her love and prayer. 

So the hand and the heart be pure. 

All influence made but higher, truer; 

Careful to watch that hate be laid aside, 

The cruel malice — inglorious pride! 

So holy her work, but silent in power, 

It will bring the Avished — the blessed hour, 
When the whole nation, as these, late weeping, 

Vigil and rite, above its dead, keeping. 

Promise to love, forgive, he one again. 

And the whole land respond Amen ! Amen I 



IDYL III. 



EARLY SPRING FLOWERS, 

FROM GULP'S HILL. 



IDYL III, 



ADDRESSED TO MBS. F. If. B. 
(hepatica, and anemone nemorosa.) 

Near the foot of a riven oak, 

Trunk all shivered by battle stroke — 

Gracefully grew these frail spi-ing Howers, 
Softly tinted, — droopingly stood, 
In early, sweetest sisterhood, — 

Bending lightly to passing showers, — 
Just as they bend to zephyr's wing, 
As he heralds the gentle spring. 

These flowers grew on hallowed ground, 
Late, where echoed the battle sound. 

113 



116 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Their tiny roots have all been dyed 
With deeper hue — the life blood stain 
Blent with the soil beneatli the slain ; 
, Bathed, indeed, by the crimson tide 
Tliat stained the hill, i3ushed the glen ; 
Gushing from hearts of dying men. 



"Why shrink you thus, from sweetest breath? 
Ah! no less sweet that carnage and death 

Profuse have fed each fair young life; 
Naught changes ever perfect mould, 
Or lessens one exquisite fold. 

So stainless, pure amid our strife 
Refining but the gross of earth ; 
Each life, but beauty from its birth! 



Love these flowers for a nation's dead; 
Love not less for the blood so shed, — 




' ' \i) ^- 



EARLY SPRING FLOWERS. HQ 

Tea, it giveth the richer bloom; 
They veiled the eye from fearful sight, 
W'ept in sadness, the wintry night. 

But leave behind such grief and gloom, 
They spring afresh, on field late red ; 
Love them well for our nohh dead. 



Tenderly greet these lovely flowers. 

They weave that spell for charmed hours; 

Oft we have sought on other ground, 
Wherr the damp chilling winds were there, 
All the woodlands still brown and bare; 

Then low anemone, have found 
On shielded slope, in sheltered vale. 
The early triloba, and pale. 



Fold the flowers in a heart of love ; 
Never forget these bloomed above 



120 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

( 

Graves, so level at once, and lone; 
Yes where they grew, and all around 
Over this wide ensanguined ground; 

Are nameless graves, so low — Unknown 
Where tender tears are rarely shed, 
In tribute thine, for stranger dead. 

The tear, thus falling, gently kind, 
Flows from a heart by love refined; 

A charity as nobly true. 
Would seek to shield with kindly care, 
This once our brother, sleeping there, — 

Would sometimes plant the mournful yew 
Or now, that cruel war is past. 
Would yield the Christian rite at last. 



IDYL IV. 

NATIONAL 
ORPHAN HOMESTEAD. 



IDYL IV. 



Rational ^xif\mx §mt$taA. 

FIRST SIGHT OP THE GETTYSBURG BATTLE FIELD, AND FIRST 
NIGHT AT THE HOMESTEAD. 

Of this field, the first sight, 

At THE HOMESTEAD, fil'St night, 

There is stirred in the soul, 
Intensely deep feeling, — 
Such fancy unsealing, 

As defieth control. 
The dread charge sounds again 
From the hill-side and plain! 

Frightful the cannon roar. 
Shaking the ground once more; 

123 



124 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Shivering lance, — oft broke; 
Warring steeds, and brave men 
CroAvd the gorge, and the glen.- 

So the sulphurous smoke 
Shuts out once more the light— 
I dream — is it the night? 



A dream — Ah! a troubled dream. 
That flash, — is it the gleam 

Of sudden bbizing fires? 
What is that awful sound? 
This tremor of tlie ground; 

What demon's wrath inspires? 
Away! all horrible thought, — 
Enough, enough, — once fought! 



Be seen? Oh! never more. 
Would recall? no; deplore. 



ORPHAN HOMESTEAD. 125 

Wherever was such sight? 
These hills, so softly green, 
"With sleeping vales between, 

Should ever know such light! 
Should drip with human gore : 
Kecall ? Oh ! never more ! 



May not in dream recall; 
So fearful, awful, all — - 

Terrible, but in dream. 
Even the July sun. 
Festering work so done. 

Frightful, his piercing beam, 
Festering, foul the ray — 
Heaven shield from such a day! 



Away, warrior — ghost ! 
Away, shadowy host! 



126 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

It is now peace, once more! 
Withdraw from yonder crest, 
Your foe may not invest; 

His power, as thine is o'er! 

He faltered on the plain, — 

Why vjoke the ghastly slain! 
* * * 

Then come, ! gentle sleep, 
For angel guards will keep 

Watch through the sacred ground; 
For the lone orphan prayer, 
Invoketh heavenly care, 

To shelter thus, around ; 
To safely keep this night. 
Shielding with Gracious might. 



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